FORTY-SIX

ANISHA'S POV

"I didn't have a great life, but I always hoped to live long…" I sniffed. "I had my plans. I mean, I never met my parents. I had no intention of searching for them, just because I thought it was going to be too difficult. But now, as I face death, I am regretting why I never made an effort to try and find them…" I failed to control my tears.

The pastor looked at me with eyes full of pain. He slightly shook his head and gave me a faint smile. "Don't blame yourself, my child. It was your parents' loss. The missed the blessing of raising such a beautiful, caring young lady. It is their loss, my child."

I looked at him and my tears freely fell. Was it their loss, really? Did they ever think of me, or they had long forgotten about me? Did they end up having more children…or rather were they even together? What was the reason for them to leave me at Olga Children's Home. Most importantly; were they alive? Maybe my parents were long dead. But who left me at Olga? I was told that I was left there on the day that I was born? Maybe my mother gave birth to me and then died that very minute? And then…who? My dad? My dad was the one who decided to leave me at Olga? Why would he make such a decision.

"Don't think too much about it," Dylan spoke to me. It was only then that I realised I was shaking my head and crying hysterically.

"I am angry with my parents! They should have kept me, maybe I would have never ended up in a situation like this!" I cried.

Part of my heart told me that my cries were not really out of anger for what my parents did to me, but rather out of fear and regret. I feared death. I feared the thought that my name was going to trend for a few days…the child minder was found dead….

I also had regret. What if...what if I looked for my parents? But how? With what resources? I had absolutely no idea what their names were, so how on earth was I going to start the search? I could have…I could have posted something on social media, right? Something like, some years ago, a baby girl was dumped at the gate of Olga Children's home on the 11th of April… Why did I not think of that sooner? Why did I….

"We all have regrets," the pastor began to talk.

"I believe everyone has regrets," Dylan concurred with the old man.

"Listen, Anisha, it is not your fault that they dumped you. And just because you did not look for them, that does not make you a bad person. They knew you, they know that they left you at Olga, so they should have looked for you." Dylan's voice was very comforting, it sounded very beautiful. His voice had always been captivating, but on that day it even sounded much more beautiful. I would not mind listening to him talking all day. Who wouldn't want to listen to the most beautiful voice, and look at the most handsome face, just before they die?

I only realised that I was smiling when the pastor and Dylan smiled back at me. Ok, I guess I was seriously infatuated. This man was tossing my emotions left right and centre. How on earth was I still able to smile when death was right in my face? How could my heart still have time and space to accommodate infatuations and lusty ideas, when my death was some hours away? I faced the floor in shame, but when I lifted my eyes a few seconds later, his eyes were on me. Why did he have to look at me like that? I quickly avoided his stare and fixed my eyes on the floor.

My mind drifted to Ms Meyerton and Valentina. Were they going to miss me? I was certain that they were. And Liam? If Liam survived all the drama, he was obviously going to forget me. The thought broke my heart.

My mind went to the man next to me, the son of the multi-billionaire, the richest people in Lakeworld. If it wasn't for the kidnapping, I would have never known that he was kind, and a normal human being like us all. I always had the idea that the rich don't want to talk to the poor…or was I right? Did he want to talk to us or he was left with no option?

I tried to imagine life on any other normal day…Dylan would have never spoken to me. He told me that he always wanted to talk to me when I was at Olga. Strangely, my heart believed him. I guess I was just caught up in a blanket of a massive crush. That was why I believed him, for why else, how else could I have ever believed that he wanted to talk to me back then? Anyway, spending the last minutes of my life with him felt good enough. At least the world was going to remember me as the child minder who died in the same room with Dylan de Milo. That sounded good enough for me.

***

"I have done a very bad thing, I cannot take it to my grave…" pastor Everdeen told us. Having accepted his imminent death, he seemed to believe that it was time for him to say his last words. He explained that he believed that sharing with us his well kept secret was somehow going to help him go with a clean conscience. Although I had too many issues running through my head, I still decided to listen to what the pastor had to say. If it was going to help him feel at peace with his God, then why not. At least I would have helped someone to feel good just before we all died.

The pastor began to narrate his story, "when my late wife and I got married, we did not manage to have any children. By that time I was not yet a pastor. We visited many doctors and all of them said the problem was with my wife. I loved her a lot, and although some people in my family suggested that I let her go, I did not do that. She suggested adoption, but somehow I felt uncomfortable with it.

Along the way of life, I met a young lady called Amelia Reshell. Amelia was one of my colleagues, while I was working at Greenrod Electrical. Amelia's mother had passed away and her step mother gave her a tough time. She worked during school breaks, to make her own money, for the step mother refused to provide for her anything, not even essential things such as sanitary wear. Amelia was very young, she had just turned sixteen while I was already in my mid sixties. I was more than triple her age. We got very close.

She always used to come to me to narrate her sad stories about how her dad and step mother ill-treated her. At first I treated her as a daughter, until I started to notice that I got excited in a different way each time I saw her. It was silly of me to not know that it was time to stop seeing her in private, yet we carried on. She told me that she admired me and admired my marriage, for almost all my colleagues knew my wife, she usually visited me at the office.

One day Amelia came to my office when I was working overtime, and she started her pitiful stories. I failed to restrain myself, I stood up and hugged her, then I kissed her. She did not try to stop me, not that I blame her, but then one thing led to the other, and we ended up having sex. I seriously regretted it soon after that, but there was nothing I could have done about it.

Out of regret and guilt, I told her not to visit me anymore. She of course felt used, and insisted on visiting me, but I used my seniority to ban her from communicating with me in any way. My regret deepened even more when about five weeks later, Amelia informed me that she was pregnant. I could not imagine the pain I was going to cause my wife. It felt like I had rejected her because she could not give me a child, and it felt like I had gone out intentionally to look for another woman to carry my child. I hated myself for that.

After thinking through it, I advised Amelia that we needed to get an abortion. She was against it and no matter how much I persuaded her, she would not hear anything of it. In the end I had to force her. I threatened and told her that is she refused, then she might as well prepare for a life of misery ahead. Out of fear, she gave in. I was much older than her, it was not too difficult to threaten her to follow my commands.

We went to a woman who during those day used to help people abort their babies. It was not a legal deal; she just did it in her own home in a bedroom behind closed doors and curtains.

I went there with Amelia Reshell, and she was in the room for close to two hours. When she came out she looked very weak and she had a lot of blood stains on her skirt. A part of her skirt was literally soaked in blood. She looked at me with tearful eyes and told me that she never wanted to see me again.

I could not let her go like that. I was wearing a yellow shirt on that day, and since I had a t-shirt inside my shirt, I took off my shirt and used it to cover her skirt. it was not proper to have her walking in the city with a skirt like that. I offered to take her home but she refused. I offered to get her a cab, she still turned me down. She was adamant that she wanted to be left alone as she mourned her child whom I had forced her to abort.

I tried to persuade her to talk but she walked away. I felt deep pain and regret in my heart, but it was too late, the child was already gone! That was the last time I ever saw her. And if I am to be honest, I never tried to look for her. If I had tried, I believe I would have found her. My main effort was in making sure that my wife never got to know about Amelia.

Now here I am, and I am dying. I know I will die first, I am an old man. Who knows, maybe the police will find us before we die, or maybe by the time they come, I will already be dead. If that happens, please, my children, do me a favour.

Go back to Southrain and try your best to look for this woman called Amelia Reshell. She might have left the city or even the country, but I believe with this modern technology, you can find ways to look for her. Amelia Reshell. Tell her that these are my last words; I am sorry. I am sorry that I forced her to abort her child… our child! I believe she has never managed to forgive herself, and I too have not managed to forgive myself even up to now. I hate myself for what I did.

When I made the choice to become a pastor, I thought it was going to lessen my burden but it did not. I never gathered enough courage to tell my wife what I did. Only on the day that she died did I regret that I should have come clean with her. She would have forgiven me. She loved me. But it's all too late now. My wife is gone.

As for Amelia, I need her to know how sorry I am. Even if I had no intention of marrying her, it was not for me to decide for her to have an abortion. I was wrong. I can only pray that I live to see her face and apologise, but if I do not, please find her and apologise on my behalf. Tell her that I, Noel Everdeen, from the bottom of my heart, I apologise for how I treated her. No day has ever passed without me thinking about her, and imagining how our son or daughter would have grown by now. Maybe the child would have looked like me, or like Amelia. That child deserved to live. Each time I look at you, Anisha, I imagine that maybe this is how my child would have been like. That hair and those yes, I believe my child would have looked like you, but I destroyed my own child!

Please, my children, try your best to find her. Tell her that from the moment she walked out of that room with blood stains on her skirt, I regretted my decision to abort the child. I am sorry. I have always been sorry and I will take this pain to my grave. When you see her, please tell her these my last words."